World War I
by Willowstar157
Summary: A collection of shorts that mainly feature Canada and some America during the battles and experiences of World War One, dated 1914-1918/9. (depending on your perspective.) Attempted to be historically accurate. Explanation in first chapter. Rating may change. (I have no clue what to categorize this as... There's no historical genre! xD) Sorry for the bad summary.
1. Introduction

ALRIGHT! Shadow of Betrayal update coming after this, but I wanted to post more than just that after how incredibly long it's been. And I want to tell you guys exactly how these shorts happened. Skip if you want, I just want it out there for… Reasons. (Just 'cause. xD)

So, for History we've been learning a lot about World War 1. Which is HUGE for Canadians. And since becoming obsessed with Hetalia, I wanted to ace the test we had this afternoon (Just History in general, because it now interests me, but mainly for the test.)

SO, onto the point. Since I have a lot of difficulty studying -thank you very dearly, stupid ADHD,- I was all 'Hey, I could write one-shots to learn this stuff!' Because -I'm not sure if this is normal or not- I have been blessed with the ability to remember every passage/short story/novella-ish I've ever written. So I figured it would help me out. And that's when these happened. I'll continue writing them as our History unit progresses onwards, I'll just be focusing more on TRYING to become more frequent in my updates for Celestial Wings and Shadow of Betrayal more. Plus, I have an actual Hetalia fic and two rather large one-shots (maybe actually two chapters, I dunno) circling around in my mind just begging to be written.

So, I'll try to keep up with my updates. I know I've been promising that one heck of a lot lately, but I really do mean it. I'm trying, guys! n.n

Yep. PEACE, and hope y'all enjoy my study notes! xDDD


	2. Second Battle of Ypres

"What's that?" I heard a voice through the gunshots, and stopped shooting. I lowered my rifle and looked through my goggles. A thick, murky fog was creeping along the upturned earth. Where those... Screams? I craned my ears, trying to hear.

"Hold your fire!" I shouted. The officers repeated the order to those who couldn't hear.

Then I heard. Screams, definitely screams. Hundreds of them. Through the fog, I saw figures running. Screaming, waving their hands at us. What were they trying to say? I stood in shock as several of the people fell face first into the mud. The bodies shook, they held at their throats. A pang shot through my chest, and the forms went still. So they were of mine...

Wait, what?

"GET BACK! EVERYONE, RUN!" I yelled, cutting my troops out of their surprised daze. They all looked over at me. More pangs shot through my chest, and I started having trouble breathing.

"Get back! Run! That fog will kill you!" I shouted again, waving my arms towards the hill behind us. They must've heard the urgency in my voice, because all at once they turned to run, screaming orders at each other, farther down the line. Kumajiro loped up to me, and I grabbed onto his thick white fur, pulling myself onto the polar bear. I collapsed against his back, more and more pangs shooting through me.

"Run, Kumajiro... Find the others..." For once, I remembered his name. It seemed I always did at urgent times like this, for some reason.

"Got it, mister." I felt the long lope of his stride. He made sure to steer clear of the soldiers, who were now all desperately running. I scanned them all.

"There!" I caught sight of England, who was shooing others away from the fog. He was covering his mouth, but I could see the violent coughs that wracked his body. I tugged on Kuma's shoulder fur.

"Got it." I slung my sniper across my shoulder as Kumajiro raced toward the other nation. As we drew nearer I leaned down and grabbed his wrist, pulling him up behind me. France followed suit, though where he had come from I had no idea.

"Now get us out of here." I ordered the bear, who gladly turned and bolted.

"You two alright?" I asked. Britain was collapsed against my back, spasms wracking the Brit's body.

"Je suis bien. I'm not sure about him though." I heard France answer. Without looking over my shoulder I knew he was talking about Britain.

"Have you seen Belgium or the other colonies?" I asked Papa.

"No, no sign of them since the gas..." So it was poison gas. Just how much had Germany prepared for this? My grip tightened on Kuma's fur. The only thing I could do was pray the other nation and colonies were alright.

"None of us were expecting this... We were charging them, just as the plan had said, then suddenly the Germans went quiet and..." Britain managed to talk. France hushed him.

"Save your strength, Britain." I ordered. It felt weird to give an order to my superior, but I wasn't taking any arguments. "Don't go and die on us."

I looked back over my shoulder. We were hardly outrunning the cloud. It was almost like it was chasing us specifically.

"Kuma, try going a little faster. Get some distance between us and that cloud."

"It's hard outrunning the wind, mister... Especially with all three of of you..." He panted. I patted his shoulder.

"Just do your best. If it gets too much I'll hop off and run beside you." I told the bear. He shook his head, and I felt him stretching his legs out more.

"No, it's fine." He complained. I felt France's eyes on my back, but I didn't turn around. I knew what the French was thinking without having to ask. The peace loving nation was showing his true colours in this war. The north was hardy, and it hardened both my soldiers and me. We were toughened and strong from the harsh weather conditions of Canada.

I felt another pang in my chest and gasped, clutching at my jacket.

"Are you okay, Mattieu?" France asked me worriedly. I waved my arm at him.

"I'm fine." Did they not get pains when one of their soldiers died? Maybe it was only the colonies, since we had less troops then the independent nations. Or maybe they were so used to it it never bothered them anymore. I shivered at the thought. It was quite possible... Thousands had died already in this war. Most of whom came from them and Germany.

I turned back around to look at the cloud as we came down a hill. It had started lifting off the ground, going up into the air. It didn't follow the curve of the hill downwards.

"Kuma, slow down." I said. He obliged gladly. As soon as the gas cloud passed over our small group, it suddenly struck me how far we had ran, and how exhausted my best friend was. I jumped down and grabbed Britain before he could fall against the bear's spine. France got the hint and jumped down to help me pull the semi-conscious Brit off Kumajiro.

Once the weight was off his back, he let his body drop in a tired heap. I stayed by his side, slowly stroking his head as France splayed Britain into the grass. I noticed how heavily he was breathing as well, and became conscious of my own jagged breaths.

"Are you okay, mister?" Kuma asked me wearily. I looked down at him.

"You just worry about getting some rest, bud. You saved us today, you deserve it." I replied, but he shook his head, looking over toward the two nations. France was leaning over Britain worriedly.

"I'm not sure if I did good enough, though..." It struck me that Kuma was more worried about my family than himself. A rush of warmth for the animal swept through me.

"Britain'll be fine, me and France will make sure of it," I told him gently, "Sleep. I'll wake you up if anything happens."

"Promise, mister?" I nodded, and he layed his head down. After about a minute his breathing evened and I slumped against his side. I looked over and saw Papa watching me warmly.

"Vous deux sure are closer than you were last I saw you." He commented, a smile on his face. I returned it, pushing myself up and walking over to the two nations.

"It's only to be expected. He's been beside me every day since Britain took over." I studied his face, for the first time noticing how limp his hair looked. A stab of pain shot through my heart as I realized how close I had come to losing both my father figures today. "But still..." I trailed off, unable to continue and hoping he hadn't heard me start talking again.

"Oui, mon petit?" Maple, he had. I drew a breath.

"Just... Promise me you won't die, Papa. Me promesse ça." He looked at me for a moment before looking away. I knew it was a stupid promise to make in a war like this. Nobody knew what way this would take, especially if the Allies couldn't find a way to counter that gas, whatever it was.

"I'm sorry, mon petit... I will not do that." He said without looking at me. "You know the way war works. Promises like that are..." Now he trailed off. I knew what he had been about to say though, and I was partly thankful he hadn't.

"I know," I looked back down at Britain, "Let's take care of him."

"The foolish..." France muttered under his breath, getting a serious look in his eyes. "What was he even thinking?" He looked back up at me sharply, as if realizing something, and I braced myself for the worst. I knew what was coming.

"What were you even thinking, Mattieu? Not only did you run towards the gas when you should've left us, you put Kumajiro's life on the line! You both could have very easily died from such stupidity!" He scolded me. I closed my eyes, wincing when he brought up Kuma.

"I know, I know, but what would you have done in my place?" I asked. He paused, his mouth still open. "You would've come after me and Britain too, had you been in the backup division. And I think you know it." He sighed. I know he knew he knew I was right, he just didn't want to admit it.

"Oui oui, tu as fais ton point..." He waved his arm, turning his attention back to the Brit.

"Sir!" I heard a new voice behind me and the clop of hooves racing up. "Canada!" I turned around at the name the humans knew me by.

"Lieutenant?" I checked his uniform briefly for rank, standing up to salute him. He dismounted, returning the salute.

"The commanders are gathering all four Canadian divisions; they want us to try and take Vimy Ridge. They're insisting you come as well."

"All four?" I sputtered, trying to hold my calm. The four Canadian divisions were backup for the French and British; we never fought together, or alone.

"Yes, sir. All four of them, and one British division for reinforcements."

"Who's the commander in charge of this?" I demanded, almost desperately. I prayed it wasn't Haig again.

"Major General Arthur Currie, sir." I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Dismissed." I said. He nodded, remounting his horse and turning sharply, galloping off. I walked over to Kuma, gently shaking him awake. France looked at me, a fear in his dead eyes as soon as the officer had rounded the bend farther up the path.

"Mattieu, Vimy is..." He started. I cut him off.

"France, I know the risks of this battle. I will do what you, Britain and America couldn't. We will. I have faith in my soldiers.

"Take Britain back to the tents. Let America know what happened, and search No Man's Land for any survivors." It didn't even occur to me that I was giving orders to a superior. And France didn't argue either, he just sombrely hoisted Britain onto his back and started walking. Without looking back. I knew what he was thinking. If the independent nations of the Axis couldn't claim Vimy Ridge, how could a colony possibly succeed? Currie was a genius, though. Quite possibly one of the best leaders on our forces. He was a former teacher, unlike the others, so he knew how to drill things into the minds of the soldiers.

"Come on, Kuma... We'll see them again," I prayed so, "I promise." I crossed my fingers.

"Right, mister." He said, taking off at a steady amble. I kept a close eye on his strides, making sure they were even. He hardly got any rest after his headlong sprint, after all, and I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to him.

We will…

We will see them again, right..?

I will see them again, right..?

 **A/N: The final hours of the Second Battle of Ypres, when the German's finally had the right wind speed and direction to release their toxic gas.**

 **Yes, I know the Canadians were in trenches when they first spotted the gas. I wrote this and then remembered that teeny tiny fact. Though, it's Hetalia, it's not exactly… Completely…. Historically accurate… And I'm doing these to learn… So…**

 **Yah….**

 **I feel like I might've strayed from what really happened. I got carried away and before I realized what was happening the gas cloud was taking off over the hill and heading off to freak out the citizens of Ypres, and Canada was going off to the Battle of Vimy Ridge, and Britain was half-dead, and I wasn't following my notes. Nor am I really sure if the Canadians went STRAIGHT from Ypres to our legendary Vimy, but, hey, Hetalia.**


	3. Treaty of Versaille

"We cannot afford something like this to happen again!" George Clemenceau shouted across the round table. France stood behind him quietly, his normally vibrant blonde hair looked dead after the long, four-year war.

"Exactly. That's why I'm proposing what I am." David Lloyd George. He was the Prime Minister of Great-Britain, whom was standing behind him respectively too. Same as France was with his boss. "Demilitarize the Germans, and reduce their territory. Make them rebuild themselves from the ground up!"

"Why isn't Mattie here?" I leaned closer to Britain, whispering the question in his ear.

"He's reassembling his divisions. They're getting your boats ready. Now be bloody quiet, America." I shrugged, turning my attention back towards our bosses.

"I agree with George." Vittorio Emanuele Orlando spoke up. The pasta loving boy-child, Italy, and his jerk older brother Romano, stood behind him.

"I really don't think they're that bad, though... Germany's nice to me!" Italy perked up. Romano punched his brother.

"Shut up, bastardo. We have no place to speak here. Idiota fratello..." He added the last part under his breath.

"C'mon dudes, cheer up." I ducked around the group so I was beside the two Italians. Britain and France glared at me, but both held their silence.

"America..." I flinched at the stern voice I then heard. Thomas Woodrow Wilson, my own boss. The President of the United States. "Take your place." I obliged without complaint, slinking back behind him and silently cursing the man in my head. As I passed by, Britain punched me on the head, much like Romano had done to Italy moments earlier.

"I told you to be quiet, bloody wanker." He muttered out of the corner of his mouth. I glared at him. Francey-pants chuckled, a sound I haven't heard in awhile. This war had been hard on him.

"This Versathingy is too complicated for me..."

"It's the Versailles Treaty, and it shouldn't be. You're a nation. You need to know these things, wanker."

"I just want a hamburger!" I complained quietly, " What's so bad about wanting a hamburger?"

"For one, hamburgers don't exist yet. For two, we just finished a war and we need to decide what to do with Germany. Or rather, the bosses need to. And we need to be there."

"Hamburgers don't exist yet?" I was shocked, dumbfounded. "I've been living a lie!" Britain sighed.

"No, America, they do... Oh, never mind. Just shut up for once." I grumbled, turning my attention back to the four old guys that were endlessly talking. Stupid old people.

"So then we're in agreement? Demilitarize the Germans, reduce their territory, and force them to rebuild their government." Oh, I actually missed some important stuff it seems. England glared at me, obviously thinking the same thing. I smiled at him innocently, tilting my head.

"Agreed." Thank God, it was over.

Finally.

 **A/N: The creation of the Treaty of Versaille after the war. (I have no clue what it's called in English xD Sorry guys. My history class is in French.)**

 **This one, I'm really not sure if it's historically accurate. The only thing I'm sure about was what the conditions of the peace treaty were. For setting I was going off a picture of the four leaders all standing in front of a door shaking hands, so… xD**

 **Yeah, nor do I know what Canada was really doing. He was a colony at the time so I doubt he would've had a place at the Treaty creation, despite the massive war participation. So I just threw him to the docks, because I can't picture Al not bringing up his brother during the end of the war.**

 **Annnnd he's my spirit animal, I love Canada and am almost exactly like him… I don't think I can write a Hetalia fic without mentioning my forever-home nation. But that's enough of my ranting… Again.**


	4. Trenches

It was horrible. America walked through the trenches, scanning the soldiers.

"Bloody hell..." England walked up beside him, his eyes wide. They were doing a routine trip to the front lines of World War 2, to the trenches and foot soldiers. Mud lay everywhere. He couldn't see a single soldier who wasn't covered in it. Some lay on the ground, unable to stand from trench foot, the horrible disease that plagued the poor ones who remained in the trenches for long periods of time. Eventually, through the muck, your feet would start decomposing. Literally. It made the nation want to throw up.

"Any word from Canada?" He asked his adoptive father. The Brit nodded, some spark of hope returning to his faded emerald eyes.

"He and Byng were successful in their attack on Vimy. The Canadian divisions are awaiting further orders from the higher-ups."

"Well, that dude could always come down here to Passchendaele and help us out..."

"You know he will, once he hears of this."

"Ya, I know."

 **A/N: Short but I told myself I'd upload all of them… America and Britain/England/Iggy (I always call him Iggy, tbh) are walking through the trenches and seeing the horrors inflicted on the soldiers from the natural environment.**


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